That last month in Fort Lauderdale was a blur, and as quickly as it started it was over. Coming back to Tampa, I feel like my life is restarting after a five year pause. Part of that restart includes my returning to school.
Last night I had a dream, about going back to USF, this time for film. During the entire thing, everything I did was juxtaposed against my experience as a music student, with the worst of moments–those I’d go back and erase, for they brought nothing but ill–being accented most of all. In the end, I awoke with both dread at the idea of going back to school and facing demons, and hope that I could actually be successful in film.
But first and foremost, I’d like to continue further with my writings.
You may not know it, since I don’t remember whether I’ve mentioned this here or not, but I’m a musician by training. I started playing the violin when I was 10, the double-bass when I was 13, and the viola when I was 18. In 2002 I got a B.M. (Bachelors of Musicology) in music composition. Since then music has been, at at best , secondary in my life. Hell of an expensive hobby, wouldn’t you say?
It was during that time that I started writing, first for computer companies, then eventually for my own, in the form of commentary and fiction. This has been moderately successful, by which I mean I’ve been able to make a fairly good living off of it, though I’ve yet to attain any massive fame or fortune from my writing. Still, even with that, I feel I need to do more, like if the creative process, at least mine, can’t really be constricted to one format. That, and I’ve always fancied myself as a bit of a stage and film “creator” (I won’t use “director”, since it’s not entirely what I’d like to do). As well as an actor, since I’ve also always enjoyed being on the stage. But then, maybe I’ve been watching too much television.
My office, if I may change the subject, is coming along nicely. When we moved here, it was the one room I knew I had to set up before concerning myself with any of the others, including the bedroom or kitchen. But in reality there are two offices, not one. The first is my job office/library. It’s a 12′ x 12′ room facing the conservation area in the back yard. It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. That walk-in closet is the second office, what I call my writing office. In it there is one small AC vent, one light, and no electrical plugs. That’s because I don’t intend to use any electronic devices in the office, at least not for long. (I’m writing this on my MacBook and yes, I’m sitting in the writing office.) I’ve added a bookshelf, a (beautiful) writing desk, and a chair, but that’s it as far as furniture is concerned. On the desk is my typewriter, and until last night, a stack of papers full of unfinished stories, bits of diary entries, and plans for a couple of books.
In that stack of papers were the drafts for seven distinct works, including two books. One’s a comic book script. Another is a book I started a year ago, but which I don’t quite feel the need to write right now, another is a collection of short stories set in a universe of absurd realism. And then there are a few short stories. Of the stack, most were written on my computer. Some were written on my typewriters. Yet all were written with the desire to create something, a world, a universe.
You know what my dream is? I admire guys like Joss Whedon, Gene Roddenberry, and J. Michael Straczynski. Why? Because they’ve been able to do what I can only dream of doing: they created universes so enjoyable to be in that people will choose it over the universe in which they currently exist. So, yeah, maybe that’s my dream: to become the purveyor of escapism. But I think of it as creating something that makes so many people feel good, that so many enjoy, that it takes on a life of its own.
Someone wise once told me that God created us in His own image, and that since He is a creator, then that must mean we are also. I’ve held that belief as my own ever since.
While I completely admire people like Steven King and Gene Wolfe (hard to imagine the two being held up to the same light), people whose lives are defined by their words, I’ve come to the realization that my ambitions stray a bit from this solitary discipline and encompass also the visual and aural arts. That’s why I look to people like Neil Gaiman, whose works transcend the written word and move to the visual arts, whether that be via comics or films; and Stanley Kubrick, who create a world of not only sight and words, but of sounds.
The office isn’t very large, as you can imagine. At 6′ x 8′ it isn’t small, either. It’s just the right size for its purpose. It’s only window to the outside world is the closed door to the main office. Yet in here I can sit with my own thoughts, write, and dream up worlds which will one day, I hope, exist somewhere other than in my own mind.